Reinhardt's Lament (Reinhardt X Angela)
by AWolfInATopHat
Summary: Hey I fixed this. [This is in Reinhardt's POV. Added note: this was before Ana was officially released, and back in the past so no healing for Ana! Just a short one shot bc I'm stuck in rarepair hell.] The day Angela died and was reborn as Mercy was painful for all of the squadron, but none more than Reinhardt Wilhelm.


Today was, unarguably the worst day of my life. Today…Angela…died.

The day started off with a fairly standard mission, criminal activity had been reported in some deep city underground warehouses and they decided to send in a fairly balanced squadron. That would be myself, Angela, Ana and a few others who wouldn't draw too much attention with their fire, upon entry we found the group was a lot larger than we thought, my shield simply couldn't hold that long. But I was a fool, I tried too hard to be a hero, to buy Ana enough time to line up a shot, my shield shattered around me and I found myself leaving my team exposed, the first to go down was one of our flankers, he just couldn't fire fast enough, I leapt in to charge into the enemy ranks, drawing fire from swings of my hammer but deep down I knew it was too late, I had to pull back, to help my squad. Angela leapt into action to aid our fallen squad mate, pulling out that staff of hers alongside a med kit, as she knelt beside the fallen I tried to pull back… I tried, I heard Ana's shots ringing out, faster, they needed to be faster, we were overwhelmed, I couldn't blame this on anyone but myself. From the corner of my eye I saw Angela stand, I attempted to lift my shield again, desperately hoping it had recharged enough by now but it was too late. I saw it happen in front of me. The bullet that rang true, straight through her chest, it was like time froze for a second, her body prone stood straight, a look of pure shock spread across her soft features, before reality snapped back, she looked down in horror at the red stain slowly spreading across her white uniform, she reached out to me, mouthing my name before dropping to the floor like a stone in a river. I felt sick, sick to my very stomach, cold chills ran up my spine, that sight has played behind my eyes over and over since. Horrifying. I don't think I've ever run so fast in all of the 35 years of my life, let alone in this armour. I dropped to a kneel at her side, lifting her limp and bleeding body into my arms, she looked at me with a smile, there was blood leaking from her mouth, "I'll…be okay…because…heroes…never…die" she broke off with a cough, "…right?". My heart felt like it was breaking, I practically launched myself, looking back I think I must've, back to the vehicle we had brought with us, I threw everything around searching for Angela's first aid items since she had lost the kit in the chaos. I eventually found it and was able to stem the bleeding, her eyes were fluttering but at least she was still breathing, she mumbled something under her breath, something that sounded like "Valkyrie" and "Lab", it finally clicked, she wanted to go back to her lab, I wondered if there was something there that she could save herself with. We left as fast as possible, I still held her in my arms, she was rapidly growing colder, I just hoped she could hold on. Upon arrival Angela was practically snatched from my arms as the door was slammed behind her. I was left cold and empty, worry, pain and guilt seared through me, how could I call myself a hero after this?

I waited hours until Ana came up to me, hot drink in hand and lead me away from the building, handing the drink over to me she looked down at the ground and shook her head, in a thick Egyptian accent she softly said, "I'm sorry Reinhardt…she has no pulse. I'm sorry…" I didn't wait to hear the rest, I just couldn't. It was my fault.

Of course…that was 26 years ago. I didn't know at the time but they…did something to her back there. She…Angela hasn't aged a day, but there's always something I'll know that only a select few others know, she still doesn't have a pulse. Whether it's that Valkyrie suit or something else, I guess I will never know, but I keep strong - we all do. I'll not put my hammer down until it's forced out of my cold hands and I know she feels the same way about helping others. I love that woman with all my heart but even now I cannot bring myself to shed my guilt, I'm reminded of it with every uncomfortable stare I get from passers-by who assume Angela is in her 30s still, I'm reminded of it every time I gently stroke her face and feel the skin is cold. She smiles at me and laughs it off, she makes jokes about it, she looks up at me and says "see dear? I told you. Heroes never die.". But it still hurts.


End file.
